Chapter 4: Long Way Down
Grimmauld Place, August 1st 1995
Kreacher pops into my room and announces that my former Headmaster has arrived, and is waiting for me in the library. I sigh and stand up from the armchair I've been lounging in. I've spent the morning contemplating my impending conversation with the old wizard; what he already knows and what he will ask from me – and what exactly I wish to include with him. I recall Dumbledore's brief intrusion into my mind, and I'm quite sure he doesn't know about the locket. What he does know, is that my every intention was to betray my former master, and to find a way to destroy him. What he did see, was the cave and the creatures guarding it. I know this, because these were the thoughts and memories most forefront in my mind last night.
I know what I will do, and what I will say to him. Before I open the door to the library, I clear my mind and close the walls guarding it. This is going to be a long and tiresome day, and it is only afternoon.
"Are you available to discuss certain matters, Mr. Black?" Dumbledore asks as I enter the library.
I nod, and he smiles and gestures for me to take a seat on the sofa near the fire. I sit down silently as Kreacher appears with a tray of tea and biscuits. How the old wizard managed to get the elf to perform that, is beyond me. Kreacher hasn't exactly been taking care of the house or itself either.
I thank my elf before it disapparates.
"So," Dumbledore says as he lifts his cup and examines its intricate details. "I think we should talk about your whereabouts last night, before you travelled into this time." He says simply and takes a sip of his tea.
I study him for a moment before I clear my throat. "Of course. However, I should warn you, that my memories from last night are not the most detailed," I tell him, even though I remember everything that happened in the cave; every last excruciating detail. He might be the Headmaster, and the leader of the Order, but I am a Slytherin, and I did fight for the other side. I will not share more than it is needed to gain his trust.
Dumbledore eyes me carefully, and I can't decide if he believes me or not. "Not to worry. We can start with the most obvious one, then." He says simply, watching me expectantly. "Why did you turn against your master?"
I roll my eyes inwardly, having predicted his first question. I give him a steady look. "Because I didn't share his beliefs," I say and can feel the muscle in my forearm twitching. I try to ignore it as I continue, "at least not to the extent of killing others for them." I know how it sounds, since I most certainly knew what I was up against before I joined the Death Eaters.
"I joined him because of my family. I joined the Death Eaters because I thought I didn't have a choice. Needless to say, I regret it now," I say honestly and stare into his speculative eyes.
Dumbledore listens to my words carefully before nodding slowly. "A family…It can be a burden, and yet so necessary and important to have," he says cryptically, almost lost in thought.
There's a short silence before the old wizard speaks again. "You didn't only turn your back to him, but aimed to destroy him, yes?" He asks sharply, and the thoughtful look in his eyes is replaced by something…inscrutable.
"Yes," I say simply, all the while reading him, trying to fathom what he knows. What he's seen.
"How?" He presses on.
I supress a shiver of unease as I look into his hard gaze, the friendly look in his eyes vanished long ago.
I decide to speak partly the truth. "It came to my knowledge that the Dark Lord had a secret. Something he was keeping from everyone. I never learned what it was, but I found out its location," I say darkly.
"The cave?" Dumbledore asks calmly. "You were there?"
I give him a curt nod. "Yes."
He hums quietly, evidently contemplating if I'm speaking the truth. "And what did you see there?" He asks, and I can hear urgency in his voice, even though his expression is mostly unreadable. And I know he hasn't seen it. The locket.
I calm myself before answering to him. I need him to believe me, and there's no room for uncertainty. "A bunch of corpses that had been bewitched to do his bidding. Inferi." I say dryly, since I'm sure he's seen them in my mind as well as the cave. "Other than that, nothing. Whatever was there, is not anymore." I say simply.
The old wizard stares at me for a long while, staying silent. I begin to feel slightly nervous, but I manage to keep my impassive mask on. He's testing me, trying to see if I falter. He's trying to decide if he can trust me, and I can see a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. I keep the memories regarding the locket tucked safely in the deepest corner of my mind, but he doesn't seek entrance into my mind. I wonder why? Because I would. I was a Death Eater, after all. Probably still am in his eyes.
"Your brother seems delighted by your presence," he says all of a sudden, his blue eyes searching something from mine.
I arch a brow at him. "Not sure if I agree to your assumption," I say with wry amusement.
I don't know what the situation between me and my brother is. The last time saw him, before my time-jump, I told him to stay away from me. Sure, we were close when we were younger, but as we grew older and were forced to choose sides, the wedge between us deepened. We rarely spoke to each other after he ran away from home, and it wasn't for the lack of trying on his part.
"He trusts you." Dumbledore says and gives me a knowing look.
I try not to shift in place. My brother was always so easily trusting, so open, and very much failing to see the faults in the people he cared about. I wonder how much of that has remained, after being betrayed by one of his closest friends. But at the same time, I understand the real intent behind Dumbledore's words. I must hand it to him, he is rather insightful; the way he's using my brother to ensure my trustworthiness.
"I know." I say a bit stiffly.
Dumbledore seems to consider this. "Does he have a reason not to trust you?"
"No." I say truthfully. Because I wouldn't betray him. I'm not saying we're in the best place at the moment, and I'm not saying that I trust him. But he is my brother. And in this time, he is the only family I've got.
Dumbledore seems satisfied enough. "Very well. Then I can assume the rest of us don't have any reason not to trust you either."
I nod silently.
"Splendid." He says after a short silence, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. "Now that it is sorted, we can discuss your existence in this time, and, well, how do we move on from here," He says lightly, sipping his tea.
"That would be acceptable." I say, my mind whirling with thoughts and matters I wish to solve. "What happens to me? How long do I stay here? Am I dead to the world?" I ask bluntly.
Dumbledore considers my questions for a bit before he speaks. "I'm afraid I do not hold all the answers to your questions. I can only guess, and based on what we learned yesterday about your arrival, I assume your stay here is permanent." He says, and I give him a muted nod. I don't know if I'm happy about it, but it's not like I had much to go with where I came from.
"When you went missing in the late seventies, you were announced dead. I believe even your family tapestry bears a date of your passing." He says, and I'm slightly taken aback.
I know the tapestry is charmed to change the details by itself when a member of our family is born or deceased. But shouldn't the details in the tapestry change again since I'm…well, alive?
Dumbledore seems to guess my line of thought. "The magic in your ancestral tapestry is unfamiliar to me and I shall not, therefore, speculate upon it," he says with a hint of a smile. "However, I am afraid your passing to the rest of the wizarding world is something we cannot change. At least not now, when a war is surely on its way." He says gravely.
"What does that mean? I'm stuck inside my home until the war is over? Like my brother?" I ask bitterly. I know we breached this topic the previous night, but I need to know every aspect of my current situation.
He gives me an apologising look. "I'm afraid so."
I scoff. "That could take years." I point out, and he only nods in agreement.
Well…Fuck me.
"The moment we reinstate you as a citizen of the wizarding world and as a member of House Black, all eyes turn towards you. If Voldemort is alive, he will most certainly want you to serve him. He will want to use you. And perhaps, to punish you. I trust you know this already." He says, and I nod. Of course I know. But the idea of being trapped inside my home with my drunken brother and a herd of Weasleys is just not that appealing.
"I don't have a wand." I say grimly. "I'm I allowed to obtain one?" I ask, feeling slightly petulant.
I need a wand. I doubt I can remain sane without the ability to use magic, especially in the midst of all these people. And even though I have studied wandless magic – and as it seems that I'm in a house arrest for an uncertain amount of time, I most probably will continue studying that sphere of magic – I still know I'm no match to anyone without a wand.
Dumbledore seems thoughtful. "There might be a way to acquire you one. I will have to look into that," He says obscurely.
I give him a resigned nod.
"As I mentioned last night, the Order is gathering here the day after tomorrow. I hope you will join the meeting?" He says, eyeing me with a questionable look.
Do I have any choice? Sure, I could say no and stay in my room, but…I want to know where we are at the moment. I need to know everything that is going on. I tell him so, and he gives me a pleased look.
"Then I will meet you the day after tomorrow." He says and stands up. I get up as well and nod him for farewell.
Grimmauld Place, August 3rd 1995
I've been keeping to myself for the past two days, staying in my room and trying to wrap my head around everything, trying to figure out what to do with the piece of the Dark Lord's soul that rests not so peacefully in my bedside table. I haven't slept well, and I know it is mainly because of the artefact, which thrums with dark magic so powerful it can slip into my mind when my guard is down – when I'm asleep.
Because of that, I decided to avoid sleeping, and instead have been wandering around the house at nights, after everyone's retired to their rooms. Or so I thought they would be. On the first night I ran into my brother, but after I politely told him to bugger off and let me be for a while, he seemed to understand I needed some space.
On the second night I stumbled on the teenagers in the staircase while they were sneaking on and off each other's rooms. If only their parents knew what they're up to. Well, it's not like I care.
It is Thursday afternoon, and I decide to stop by mother's room on the third floor. I've been putting it off for a few days now, since I know it will be hard to see the place without her. I know the Weasley parents are staying in father's room – yes, I know. Arranged marriage and all – and the twin Weasleys occupy the guest room on the same floor. The third room – mother's room – is empty of inhabitants, and I assume no one stays there in fear of some horrid curse attacking them when breaching her room. To be honest, mother probably has had that set up for intruders.
Or at least, I thought it was empty. As I open the door and step in, I'm ashamed to say a high-pitched scream escapes from my mouth. I'm face to face with a large creature, half horse, half eagle. A Hippogriff. The creature lets out an angry snarl and charges at me, its long and deadly-looking talons in its front legs raised, ready to slice me in half.
I manage to bolt from the room and slam the door behind me. I'm ready to sprint towards the stairs, but the Hippogriff doesn't follow, so I assume the room is warded to prevent it from escaping. I let out a shocked, deep breath and lean against the railing in the hallway, trying to steady my pulse. I notice that one of the Weasley children – the girl – is smirking at me from the next landing.
Bloody urchin.
"BROTHER!" I yell and start to make my way downstairs. I soon hear a familiar voice that is screaming from the top of her lungs. "Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth!"
Fuck. I forgot. Mother.
"Reggie! If you insist on whinging, I recommend you do it in the confines of your room. Or ANY room!" My brother yells with an annoyed voice from downstairs.
I reach the ground floor and see him wrenching the curtains of our mother's portrait together. Mother is still screaming like a lunatic.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" I drawl sarcastically over the screaming. "I must've missed the memo of 'do not enter mother's room if you don't want to suffer a gruesome death'!" I snap at him, a sneer curling my lips.
Sirius rolls his eyes and lets go of the curtains. He quickly flicks his wand towards the portrait before mother has a chance to screech another litany of obscenities. He then grimly nods his head towards the basement. I let out a weary sigh, but follow him into the kitchen.
Apparently, it is dinner time, and the current occupants of Grimmauld Place are all gathered in the room, some of them chatting with each other in smaller groups, while some are busy setting the table with stacks of plates, or helping Mrs. Weasley to cook.
There are others as well. I recognise two Aurors from my time and there's also someone who seems vaguely familiar; a girl, in her early twenties, her short hair a vivid shade of pink. Based on what she's wearing I'd say she's an Auror as well.
Where have I seen her?
"Regulus Black." The girl in the bubble gum pink hair says with an impressed look and walks over to me to the doorway.
I arch a brow at her. "Yes?"
The girl – woman perhaps – laughs. "What? Can't recognise your cousin?" She says teasingly, and I hear my brother chuckle as he leans against the wall close to us.
Then it suddenly makes sense. "Nymphadora…" I say in a mild surprise. I've never actually met the woman – or girl then – but the Black family features are unmistakable. She looks very much like her mother, Andromeda.
She scrunches up her nose and I hear a few stifled laughs at the table.
"I prefer Tonks. Or Dora." She says bitterly. "Mother has a peculiar sense of humour," She says flatly and I smirk at her. I might just call her Nymphadora from now on.
"Good to meet you, cousin," I say, and she surprises me by enveloping me into a quick embrace.
I stand rigidly in place, not knowing how to react.
"You too," She says lightly and when she releases me, I'm introduced to two other Aurors; Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody. I know who they are. The other one was quite known and feared in the Death Eater circles. It was said that he was quite the madman, and to be honest, he definitely looks the part.
Mrs. Weasley orders everyone at the table, and I sit between her and my cousin. Everyone starts to eat and the conversation flows. They all seem to be discussing about some hearing Potter is going to attend.
"Why are you going into a hearing?" I ask Potter, who sits opposite to me, next to my brother.
He's surprised, since I haven't really spoken to anyone before this. "I, uh…performed magic in front of my muggle cousin," He says bluntly. Many heads turn towards us.
I arch a brow at him. "Quite careless," I say, and he actually rolls his eyes.
"I think not. Especially when two Dementors threaten our lives," He says harshly.
I lift my brows in surprise. Dementors are roaming the streets? Things must be worse than I thought.
Potter is staring at me with a challenging look, and I feel a twitch of annoyance. "You performed a Patronus charm? That is rather…advanced. Although, I have to say, I'm not surprised," I say dryly.
His green eyes flash with irritation. "What is that supposed to mean?" Potter asks with a tight voice.
My brother drapes a calming arm around Potter's shoulder. "I think what my dear brother meant was that he is not surprised that you are as talented as your father was," Sirius says calmingly, his grey eyes briefly narrowing towards mine. I inwardly roll my eyes and turn my focus on my plate.
"So, cousin," Nymphadora says beside me, eyeing me with a scrutinising look. "What's your story?"
I give her a shrug. "I'm sure you know all about it already…" I say wryly and she smirks.
"Well, only the outline of things. I mean, it's not that hard to learn the gossip around here." She says and winks at the teenagers on the opposite side of the table. I resist the urge to glare at them.
"Well?" My cousin says and nudges me.
I turn towards her with an expressionless look. I can see everyone glancing at me surreptitiously as I answer to my cousin. "I'm afraid I can't remember anything about the circumstances before my arrival." I say, and I can see Potter staring at me from the corner of my eye.
My cousin shrugs. "Too bad." She says easily and returns to her meal.
I notice that the werewolf is watching our conversation closely. I arch a brow at him, and he narrows his eyes a bit, seeming to contemplate something. It feels like the air is thick with suspicion and doubt.
I eat my dinner, which is some sort of a stew Mrs. Weasley has prepared. It is rather good, and I wouldn't complain even if it wasn't. I have manners. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about the Weasley spawn, as they cause disturbance throughout the dinner. Clearly being a pureblood has nothing to do with one's comportment.
After dinner, the teenagers are dismissed and more people arrive. At least ten more people. Everyone eyes me with curiosity and uncertainty as they take their places around the table. Some of them recognise me and gasp in shock before they start to whisper to the person sitting next to them. As my former house-mate Severus Snape walks in and locks his black eyes to mine, he stills in mid-walk. Before anyone can start shooting questions, Dumbledore walks in and asks for everyone to stay silent while he explains the situation.
As Dumbledore explains my circumstances by giving away only the necessary details, Severus doesn't move his stare away from me. I look back with a blank expression, both of us probably wondering if the other one can be trusted. How is he here? He was a Death Eater, as far as I remember. Has he changed sides? If so, how is he alive still?
"How can we be sure that he can be trusted?" A man, who looks vaguely familiar asks. There's a low muttering around the table.
My brother arches a brow at the man. "He is my brother, Doge," he says heatedly.
I'm a bit taken aback by my brother; the way he stands up for me, how he believes in me.
"That doesn't necessarily mean his goals are well-intentioned," A man whom I recognise from school; Sturgis Podmore, says calmly.
"Didn't you just hear Dumbledore?" Sirius asks with annoyance. "My brother's mind was searched through, to make sure he's not a Death Eater anymore."
I flinch, and Severus notices. His stare turns to curious. I look away from him and study the other occupants in my kitchen.
"And how is that possible, by the way?" Says another familiar voice.
Emmeline Vance. Hmm. How should I describe her? I mean, I know her from school. Rather well, if I may add. Let's just say that there was a short period in our fifth year where we got to know each other very well in the confines of various broom closets.
I turn to look at her with a blank look. "Whatever do you mean by that?" I drawl, and her gaze hardens.
"How does one turn his back to Voldemort and live to tell about it?" She asks harshly. I swallow but hold her gaze. "I mean, it didn't work for Snape here either." She continues, glancing carefully at Severus.
I lift my brows in comprehension. So…Severus is a spy. Of course. But to which side he really is loyal to? I hear my brother scoff and see him glare at Severus, and I realise he has been in the same room with my former Slytherin house-mate for over a half an hour, and behaved himself, at least until now.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Gentlemen. Ladies. As I said, I have spoken with Mr. Black, and I have searched through his mind to make sure he is what he says. The most important thing is that we do not speak about his existence in this time, since Voldemort would most likely try to use this for his favour. We do not know the exact detail how Mr. Black has managed to travel to this time, but I assure you, the little information we know is best to be kept in secret." Dumbledore says, and everyone looks at him with a hint of wariness and doubt in their expressions.
I hope the children received a good scolding for what they've done. Reading aloud a ritual that practically oozes of dark magic. Even though I am grateful that they did it, there could've been far worse consequences. I mean, it is my family we're talking about.
"I also want to point out, that Mr. Black is participating this meeting because he shares our goal. Destroying Voldemort." Dumbledore continues and gives me a meaningful look over his half-moon spectacles.
Bloody brilliant. It seems that there is no way for me to stay indifferent in this war, even if I wasn't keeping safe a crucial part of the plan to finish the Dark Lord.
There's more murmur, but no one questions me further. They go through the recent Death Eater sightings, unusual occurrences, missing people. And I listen closely. It seems like we're in the same situation we were when I took the mark.
In the beginning.